


finality

by dcb_z



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Emetophobia, Gen, Impalement, Nightmares, like a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcb_z/pseuds/dcb_z
Summary: the feeling one gets when they've been crying all day, but it's evening now, and they are left with a sense of exhausted, somber finality as they finally rest: panacea(thanks to HLD discord member cannoli for the summary idea)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	finality

**ONE: EAST.**

The first hyperlight module: a shrillness in his ears. A small pain in the back of his mind.

The second: Louder. More intense.

The third: The noise, the headache-- a roiling from within himself. He coughs.

The fourth: Something within him revolts against his body. He staggers backwards, blood coming from inside of him, soaking his mask. The room swims and he reaches out to lean on something, but finds only air. Drifter sinks to his knees, struggling for air, coughing. Always coughing. The humid air makes him feel like he’s drowning.

The room goes dark before he hits the floor.

* * *

He wakes up in a pitch-black space, surrounded by silence. Eyes burn into the back of his skull, and he turns to face them.

Or, rather, _it._ It towers above him, staring at him with some expression he can’t fathom. The looming being hovers just off the ground, its cape of tendrils swaying behind it. And its eye-- even now, it makes Drifter’s insides burn.

It doesn’t move as another round of coughs rise from his lungs. Much as before, his lungs ache for air and find only blood. His own blood, once red but now tinged fuchsia by the hyperlight, spatters onto the ground with each cough.

It hurts. It hurts more than anything. And all the while, _it_ watches.

* * *

When Drifter wakes, he’s face-down on the stone floor. He’s sweating, and his head aches. And fresh in his mind is the vision of that massive black being staring daggers at him with its lone diamond eye.

**TWO: NORTH.**

Module one: he can barely feel his fingers as he twists, then pulls the module out of the ground. What he does feel of his fingers aches.

Two: Dizziness. The room swims, and he leans on the module’s container for a moment to steady himself.

Three: His skin crawls and he swears he can feel something move within him.

The fourth module: Something moves inside of him again. First, it just shifts; then, Drifter is tearing at his abdomen, his chest, as it fills him with a wrenching pain. The coughing starts, coughing as hard as he can, as if it’ll purge whatever is inside of him. His knees wobble, and he yanks his mask down as he falls to them, just in time for him to throw up.

It’s fuchsia. It’s always that color. The color of hyperlight.

He backs away from it as the corners of his vision go dark. His coughs are feeble now as Drifter lays on his side, feeling too drained to move anymore. He closes his eyes.

* * *

He’s standing in the dark again, but he knows he isn’t alone. Beside him is that pitch-black being with the diamond eye. Just as he turns to face it, it flickers out of sight, being replaced instead by glowing orbs that surround Drifter. The orbs fade in and out as Drifter turns to look at them. 

Something shoots him from behind, and he stumbles forward. He’s too surprised to make a sound, but any sound he would have made is cut off by another shot, this time from in front. The pain sears through him and he can feel his clothes quickly soaking with blood. Another shot, through his side. Another shot, again through his front. Another.

Drifter collapses. His body wants to cough but there’s nothing left. He feels himself die, drowning in his own blood.

* * *

He snaps awake, panting. A nightmare. Blood is trickling from the corner of his mouth. Drifter sits, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

His torso aches where he dreamt of himself being shot.

**THREE: WEST.**

One: as before, his body aches.

Two: as before, his ears ring.

Three: as before, something quivers inside of him.

Four: he knows what’s coming. He’s sick of what’s coming. He’s tired of the pain.

He hesitates. He stares at it for countless moments. He’d brace himself for the coming agony if he only knew how.

Finally, he pulls the module from the floor. His body lights up with the pain. He’s tired of it. He coughs over and over. His throat aches from it. His head pounds with every cough. With every module, with every region, it always gets worse.

He doesn’t fight it when he collapses.

* * *

“What are you?” he asks, staring up at the horror in front of him.

Its eye brightens as it speaks, its singular word ringing all around Drifter. _“Judgement.”_

“What am I being judged for?”

Judgement doesn’t answer. Drifter steps back as he sees its arm raise, then screams as it impales his body suddenly. Slowly, agonizingly, Judgement lifts its arm, and Drifter kicks at the air and claws at it. He coughs up blood and it spatters below him, mixing with the blood coming from his wound.

He can feel himself slipping closer to Judgement, but the more he slips down the arm, the wider the arm gets. He screams as he feels the hole in his abdomen getting stretched wider. Drifter sinks his claws into Judgement’s arm and finally stops himself, panting heavily. Every breath brings a fresh wave of pain.

It’s too much to bear. At length, his kicking and struggling stops. With a last trembling breath, Drifter’s body goes limp.

* * *

When he awakens, his body aches even more than it did in the North.

**FOUR: SOUTH.**

The Guardian isn’t here anymore.

He watched them die.

If he’d collected the modules faster, if he’d pushed himself harder, if he’d stopped hesitating, maybe they would still be alive.

The first three modules barely faze him.

As the pain from the fourth module brings him to the ground, Drifter can’t contain it anymore. He screams, slamming his fist on the stone floor, and sobs. With every ounce of willpower he has left, he fights the approaching unconsciousness as hot tears stream down his face. His breakdown brings another cry of anguish that echoes throughout the room.

If only he’d been faster. If only he’d worked harder. If only he hadn’t hesitated.

His sobs are reduced to trembling whimpers as he passes out.

* * *

Drifter’s eyes widen at a familiar person standing in front of him, clad in rose and teal armor. It’s Guardian. He knows this is just a dream, another twisted hallucination wrought by the hyperlight, but he can’t stop himself from running towards them.

“Drifter?”

Something catches his body as Guardian turns to face him. Drifter looks down and sees black tendrils wrapping around his stomach and legs. His arms are wrenched behind him as those, too, are caught. “Guardian!”

“Drifter, hold on-- I’m coming.”

Drifter’s eyes widen in horror. Behind Guardian, Judgement flickers into existence. “Guardian, run!” he screams, his voice cracking. He strains against the tendrils, a pit of dread pooling in his stomach. “Run!”

Guardian whirls around and staggers backwards as they come face to face with Judgement. They barely have time to react before the being grabs them, a hand distorting just enough to wrap around Guardian’s body.

Drifter can’t watch. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block out the sounds of what’s happening, tries to block out the sounds of his partner’s broken body hitting the floor. They echo in his mind regardless.

The tendrils release him and a sob rises from his chest as he kneels on the ground. Drifter doesn’t want to open his eyes. He can’t. He can’t bring himself to.

_“Look.”_

“I won’t,” he whispers. “I won’t.”

* * *

He’s still crying when we wakes. He can still see Guardian standing in front of him. Over and over, his mind replays the sound of Guardian dropping dead because of Judgement.

He hates that thing, whatever it is. He hates it. With eyes still puffy from tears, Drifter hauls himself to his feet.

Whatever it takes, he’s going to kill Judgement.

**FIVE: JUDGEMENT.**

He wasn’t sure what carried him through the fight. Perhaps it was rage, or sheer determination. Perhaps it was revenge. Payback for all of the nightmares, for all of the pain, for all of the suffering. For Guardian. 

The pain inside of him hurts more than what he’d felt from any module yet. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that all of his organs were liquefying and escaping through his mouth. Maybe they were. Drifter could barely think straight. Could barely even _walk_ straight.

And yet-- he had just enough in him to follow the jackal down this hallway. Where he was being led, he didn’t have a clue. But he didn’t seem to care.

Finally, he found himself in a clearing with a campfire. He slumped down against the wall, scarcely aware of the smear of blood he left on the rock wall. Something shook around him, filling the air with dust.

Drifter let his head fall forward. Exhaustion. Finality. It was time to rest, and he closed his eyes for the last time.


End file.
